All I ask of you
by SplittingImage4
Summary: Madame Giry always had a mysterious relationship with Erik. This is the lost story of what happened between the two of them starting from when she first rescued him from the gypsies and hid him within the Palais Garnier Opera. GiryxErik


"It was years ago…There was a traveling fair in the city. Gypsies. I was very young, studying to be a ballerina. One of many, living in the dormitories of the opera house.

I hid him from the world and its cruelties…"

Antoinette Giry wasn't sure why she had turned back. The boy in the cage had been so pitiful, so tortured; it had been unbearable to watch. And yet she went back to him, after the crowd had cleared, just to get another look at him. What a sad creature. His life spent in a cage, mocked and jeered at every waking moment. She herself had seen his face clearly, but the deformity was anything but amusing.

She had abandoned her friends as they were getting their fortunes told, and Antoinette guessed they were probably on their way back to the opera house. They wouldn't worry about her. They knew how she liked to roam.

As she entered the tent that held his cage once more, she saw it all happen. The boy bent over the body of his captivator who had a noose around his neck. Antoinette opened her mouth as though to scream but no sound came out. But the boy had sensed her presence anyway and raised his head towards her, no doubt staring through the tiny eyeholes cut in the sack that was masking his face.

They were still for a long moment, studying each other. The boy was out of the cage now, carrying something small and soft in his hand. Antoinette involuntarily took a few steps toward him. Suddenly a large figure burst into the tent, making both of them jump. The man who had just entered was carrying a lit torch and it only took hi a split second to take in the scene.

"Murder!" He cried.

More voices sounded, and Antoinette felt the boy take hold of her arm and the two of them began running. The light from dozens of torches was following them as well as the angry growls from the burly men who worked at the fair. The boy was extremely quick, though, and years as a dancer had made Antoinette quite agile. Soon they were able to duck into an alley, unseen. But the voices could still be heard. They were terrible, cruel sounding voices. Antoinette realized that these were the voices that the boy must listen to every day and her pity grew.

She suddenly took the lead, pulling the boy along by the hand. They hadn't let go since they'd first began running. She now knew where they were going to go, and the boy didn't. The mob was far behind them now, just a distant haze of sound. _We're almost there, _Antoinette thought, looking back at the boy. They both were panting heavily.

Finally she saw the familiar building ahead. When they reached it, Antoinette led the boy to the side, where a small window that lead into a small chapel in the basement of the building. She gently pushed it open, sighing with relief to find it was not locked, and gestured for the boy to slip in. He obeyed immediately, and she followed him in.

Antoinette knew the chapel wasn't a safe place to keep him.

"This way." She whispered, taking his hand once more and leading him out of the room.

There was one place where she knew he wouldn't be found. The catacombs of the building were never entered, but Antoinette had stumbled upon an entrance that was not barricaded, an entrance she was sure no one else had ever found. She dragged the boy up to her dressing room, moving quietly so as not to awake the girls who were supposedly asleep in the dorms on the floor above.

Locking the door behind her, she sighed. She knew they were safe, now. Antoinette went over to the large mirror that was set against one of the four rose colored walls and gently pushed it aside to reveal an old door.

"You can't in any of the dorms, or the dressing rooms, because you'll be seen," Antoinette explained. "Below the building is the perfect hideout. You can live there, until the gypsies leave, and then you'll be able to move about as you please."

She turned back to the boy, who was looking slowly about the room. She wished see could see his expression beneath the sack.

"What…what's you're name?" Antoinette asked him cautiously. "I'm Antoinette Giry."

The boy turned to face her, remaining silent. Antoinette thought for a moment that perhaps he'd lost the ability to speak, or had never leanred how. But he could speak, and he spoke in a charming velvet sounding voice.

"Antoinette Giry." He repeated. He sounded as though he was about 17, not quite a boy, not quite a man. "I'm Erik."

Antoinette nodded, smiling for the first time that night. When Erik turned around to look at a painting on the wall of an orchestra, she winced. On his bare back, Erik bore dozens of crimson slashes, some still fresh and seeping blood, others faint scars. They were no doubt the result of being subjected to a whipping every night.

Closing her eyes, she turned to the wash basin in the corner and wetted a cloth with warm water. Antoinette carefully went over and dapped at one of his wounds.

Erik jumped forward, startled.

"What are you doing?" He asked, touching one hand to his back.

"I…those scratches need to be cleaned." Antoinette said. "I didn't mean to startle you, I was just trying to…to help."

Erik nodded slowly, relaxing.

"You've helped me too much already. Besides, they'll heal on their own. They always do." He whispered.

Antoinette sighed, then sat down on the velvet couch beside the dressing table. Hesitantly, Erik seated himself next to her.

"Tell me, Madame Giry," He said, leaning back. "Where is it you've brought me?"

"The Palais Garnier opera house."

"Why here?"

"Well…" Antoinette said. "I live here."

"Who lives in an opera house?" Erik asked skeptically.

"Those studying the operatic arts. For example, I'm here because I'm learning to be a dancer."

"Can you sing, too?"

"I…er, I suppose so. Not as well as the stars of the operas, but-"

"How many shows have you been in?"

"Oh...Quite a few. Just as a ballerina, though." Antoinette was happy, albeit surprised, that she had managed to get Erik to engage in a conversation.

"Mm." He made an appreciative noise. "I love music."

His masked head turned downwards at his hands, which were fiddling with something. Antoinette realized it was the object he had taken with him from the cage. Now she could see clearly that the object had a face. A sewn in, smiling face. It was a plush creature, made from some sock like material. Attached to both of its limp arms were what looked like two small brass symbols. Erik took the creature's two tiny arms and gently knocked the symbols together, making a satisfying _clink_.

"What…what is that?" Antoinette asked.

"It's supposed to look like be a monkey. A monkey playing symbols… There were a lot of monkeys at the gypsy carnival, making noise, crashing into things…That's how I got the idea." Erik said quietly.

"You made that?"

Erik nodded. "When I was alone…I would sing. I would compose my very own songs. But I had no orchestra. The most I could do was create a percussionist to make my music sound less bleak. It's just a toy, though. You have to understand, I was going mad."

"It's wonderful." Antoinette said, smiling.

Erik lifted his head toward her.

"I remembered you. You'd come by earlier, in a big crowd. But I remembered you because you were the only one who wasn't…wasn't laughing." He said.

"Of course I didn't laugh." Antoinette said gently. "Oh, Erik. What kind of cruel life must you have known?"

She reached over to place her hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away instinctively.

"You'll be safe here, Erik." She continued. "You're free now."

"I'll never be free. My fate was set when I was born as this monster. You saw. You know."

"Erik, you're not a monster. What makes someone a monster is their actions, not their faces." Antoinette whispered. "

"Unfortunately for me, the rest of the world doesn't seem to follow that logic, kind as it is."

Erik stood up, walking over to the dresser. There were a few masquerade masks still out from last night's show, cluttering the space. He picked one up, a full faced ghostly looking mask that was cut off just before the mouth. He hesitantly slipped the sack off of his head and dropped it to the floor. Antoinette could see his face in the reflection of the mirror on the dresser for a split second and found herself looking away. She couldn't help it.

When she turned back to him a second later his face was covered once more, but with the masquerade mask. She could see a bit more of his face now, though. He had bright blue eyes, that looked quite aged, as though they had seen too many nightmares. His lips and complexion, though, were quite boyish and handsome, and his black hair was matted and unkempt.

Antoinette stood up and walked over to the door behind the mirror. She lit a candle and stuck it in a hand held holder.

"Come," She said, gently taking his hand once more. "I'll show you where you can stay."

Erik nodded and followed her through the door, into a dark passageway. Down, down they went. The hallways and stairs and darkness seems to go on forever. The only light came from Antoinette's candle but even that couldn't completely chase away the dark. Finally they reached the catacombs.

Antoinette had never been there before. She'd found the passageway weeks ago but never dared to enter. The place looked like the ruins of what used to be a fancy storage room and dorm. There were ivory pedestals, worn out pieces of furniture, unlit candle holders hanging from the walls. There was an old organ against one of the walls next to a desk both cover with a layer of dust. The place was eerie, but magical at the same time. Antoinette didn't know what to make of it.

"I'll be able to bring you some food… And some clean sheets so you can sleep on that bed over there." She indicated a large ornate bed that was broken. "I think this is where they used to throw all the props after they had no use for them any more. No one comes down here, though."

She turned to face Erik, who was looking around the ruins. The place looked like a dungeon, pools of water surrounding them and iron gates stood in between walls. But Erik was looking at the place with a look, that seemed to Antoinette, to express interest. The mask in the green light of the cavernous area made him look something of a phantom, and for a moment he looked as though he fit in perfectly with the rest of his eerie surroundings.

"Of course…" Antoinette said quietly. "This is only until we're sure you're safe. You don't have to stay here once the gypsies leave."

Erik turned to look at her, smiling for the first time since they'd met. It was a sad smile, but a smile all the same.

"Where else would I go?" He said. "Besides, I think I'll come to like it here."


End file.
